Taunted by Flames
by Foreshadow-of-Dusk
Summary: Disturbed by nightmares of burning Merlin begins to retreat within himself and soon he is 'preparing' himself for the flames he feels are inevitable and well deserved. Warning! Self-harm and depressive themes will ensue. Rated T for now but may go up if I get a little graphic.
1. Chapter 1

Fire.

It had always been his worst nightmare.

He felt the heat embrace him with the devil's delight as the flames flicked their forked tongues at his feet. Belching black smoke the flames danced higher in joy as their prey stood helpless, bound to a centre pole.

He looked desperately around for help; surely someone would put a stop to this?

His vision had taken on a garish grey hue as he desperately squinted for support.

The knights? No, they were the ones that lit the pyre.

Gwen? No, she stood laughing at his pain.

Gaius? No, he scowled and muttered 'good riddance'

Arthur? Surely Arthur would help?

Tilting his neck he dragged his hazy vision towards Arthur in hope. Only for that hope to be dashed as the King's faced twisted into a sneer a called 'you thought I would accept a thing like _you_? I am the King, you nothing but a filthy sorcerer'. Cheers met this declaration as the crowds congratulated their new King on his continued war on magic, 'I hope you burn forever more' he spat laughing as the warlock began to choke on his own despair.

Merlin couldn't understand. Hadn't they been friends? Didn't Arthur know how much Merlin had done for him? They were supposed to have a great destiny together; it wasn't supposed to happen like this!

As the smoke began to obscure his sight and the flames began to melt the skin from muscle he cried for clemency, he begged and pleaded for Arthur to see reason.

'Please don't do this Arthur, I'm so sorry, I wanted to tell you! Please don't burn me. Please understand. Please listen. I'm so sorry, so sorry…' His broken cries turned to hacking coughs as the smog curled and clawed at his lungs depriving him of his life. He sobbed and choked and guttered and wailed until reaching his final moments he ducked his head to his chest keening in pain as demented laughter chorused around him.

With his last breathes he called Arthur's name like a litany praying for deliverance.

* * *

Gaius woke with a start. Groggily he began wondering what had the audacity to wake him at this time; he was the court physician and an old man! But as he heard another broken cry emanating from the small room at the end of his chambers sleep fled him and he jumped up with agility that belied a man of his years as he rushed to his young ward's room.

The pitiful sight was one that he was quickly becoming used to.

Merlin was writhing in bed, face contorted in anguish as he begged not to be burned. Gaius's heart bled for the boy at times like this. For Merlin was and would always be to him, the gangly youth that stumbled into his chambers and saved his life.

Pouring water into a small bowl on the bedside and placing a cloth in it, he then waited until the ward wrested himself from his nightmare. He had learned early on not to try to wake Merlin, as he tended not to be able to differentiate dreams from reality. Gaius sat quietly on the edge of the bed as Merlin sat bolt up-right, stiff as a board before curling in on himself; drawing his knees to his chest and rocking himself in a crude attempt to bring himself comfort.

Drawing the warlock to his chest Gaius held him as he cried in pain for a nightmare he dreaded most. Stroking his ward's head and bringing the damp cloth to wipe the sweat from it Gaius's throat constricted in pity as Merlin mumbled under his breath.

'Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. I'm so sorry, so sorry. Please don't hurt me, no more, please no more..'

Gaius gazed out the window in despair. He knew Merlin was fading, falling prey to his inner demons and was at a complete loss of how to help him. If only Merlin would open up and talk to him he could comfort the boy properly, not just hold him as he cried before having merlin clam up and pretend the whole thing hadn't just happened.

* * *

A/N Well... that was angsty... Don't worry our favourite Warlock and King will make an appearance in the next chapter, although I'm still not sure who's POV it's be from. Hmmmm we'll see! Thank you for reading and I hope you can leave a review - they make me ever so happy ^^


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning!: depressive themes and thoughts of self-harm**

* * *

Closing his eyes and allowing himself to rock back and forth on his heels, Merlin allowed himself this short reprieve from his exhaustion.

_Fire_

His eyes snapped open and he tried to focus. He was standing with his back to the wall as Arthur, the knights and councillors discussed recent disturbances on a border with… somewhere. Honestly Merlin couldn't care less as he let his mind sink into a fog. No thinking, no feeling, just the comforting sway as he rocked on his heels again. Sinking, floating, slee-

No.

Shaking his head in an effort to wake up he placed the heel of his free hand against his forehead. His head was aching dully and there were acute pains flaring behind his blood-shot eyes. It was hard to focus like this and he was having trouble smiling and being his usual cheery self, if he wasn't careful the King Prat might notice…

He was so wrapped up in his own befuddled musing he didn't notice the afore mentioned King raise his goblet in askance of more wine. It was only after a sharp "Merlin!" echoed through his skull he looked up and realized Arthur was scolding him for his lack of attention.

" – should really learn to pay attention! You- "

Ahhh, he was so tired and that shouting wasn't helping his head, surely Arthur should have noticed he wasn't feeling well? Merlin was sure he had told him as such this morning?

" – worst manservant ever! I ought to-"

Then again Arthur was under a lot of stress wasn't he? Something about bandits they were on about? But aren't there always bandits?

" – ask for more wine, I expect you to-"

So why hadn't Arthur noticed he wasn't well? Didn't he care? No, they were friends (even if the Prat wouldn't admit it!) so why the inattention? Perhaps because he was a prat? Yes that must be it –

"- you even listening?!" Arthur finished boredom induced annoyance colouring his tone a shade harder than usual. But really, he hated siting through these meetings they were very tedious and repetitive. It made the fair King reminisce of days passed when he could go gadding about the countryside at will, the wind in his hair and the sun lighting his heart. Instead he had to suffer through grain reports, finance reports (that one had been debilitating in its dullness) and news that bandits still prowled the Northern borders. Whereas his lazy oaf of a servant only had to lounge around at the back and hold a jug, how hard could that be? Yet he still managed to mess up!

Narrowing his eyes at the manservant he noticed only the glazed look on his face and assumed it to be gormlessness rather than exhaustion. He huffed as Merlin quickly stepped forward and refilled his cup before quickly melting into the shadows at the wall, like a perfect servant. Obviously the boy was trying to get back into his good graces again.

Distracted from his mind's wondering by Gwaine who had decided the meeting was done and had begun one of his 'Tavern Tales', he quickly forgot Merlin standing at the back as the hours dragged on.

* * *

In the end the councillors had left, leaving Arthur and his most trusted knights laughing at their round table, eating, drinking and swapping exaggerated conquests until late in the night. All the while Merlin had stood at the back, silent and uncomplaining.

In all honesty the boy felt he couldn't complain.

He feared Arthur.

Ever since that… _incident_, he had been left feeling vaguely numb with shock and horror. Arthur was the Once-and-Future King wasn't he? He was supposed to bring back magic and restore peace to Albion wasn't he? So people like merlin wouldn't feel dirty and guilty for his very existence.

And yet, and yet!

Merlin gasped as a tendril of pain snaked its way up from his stomach to claw at his lungs. The insidious pain was brought about by his own misery he knew, but it didn't make the pain any less real. Curling, coiling, roiling, boiling. Boiling? Fire?

_Fire! Licking, burning, climbing, consuming!_

Slipping into a little used servants corridor Merlin slumped down the wall and curled into a ball, drawing his knees tightly against his chest as he bit down on his hand to stifle his broken cries.

_Not now, not now! He wasn't on a pyre, but the other was, the other burned, the other called for him and screamed in his mind. Calling, calling, calling, calling-_

_Stop! No more, no more! Please no more! Please stop calling to me, it hurts it hurts. Oh Arthur why? Why why why-_

_I thought you were good! I helped you capture the sorcerer, you were supposed to listen to me and realize the error of your father's ways and lift the ban on magic-_

_Oh Gods, it's my fault! I killed an innocent man! I killed, murdered, destroyed – _

Tasting the salty tang of blood as his teeth broke the surface of his fist he felt the wave of despair recede, washing the pain back with it leaving only nausea in its wake.

Standing stiffly he made his way back to the rooms he shared with Gaius. The old man would be asleep already, Merlin knew his nightmares tired the physician out more than he would admit. Guilt added to his feelings of nausea. He didn't deserve any one's kindness or pity.

He was just a dirty sorcerer.

Was this what fate had planned for him? Really he had tried, he had always guided Arthur to be a good King. But why did he do that to the poor sorcerer?

"_Thanks Merlin. I know I'll always be able to count on you to help root out sorcery…"_

Arthur's parting words that day still haunted him. Arthur trusted him, yet he was a sorcerer. What should he do? If he was completely loyal to Arthur shouldn't he give himself up? But he was needed to protect the King and the kingdom…

Merlin picked up an old hand-mirror, marked with age and gazed into his reflection searching answers for half-formed questions. What should he do? Hollow eyes gazed back at his own giving no reply. Should he stay beside his friend, lying and betraying him with every breath? Or just burn himself in the courtyard?

No. he was needed. He needed to stay. Even if he didn't deserve it. With this resolve Merlin curled up under his thread-bare blanket waiting for nightmare infested sleep to pull him under. As he squashed this guilt for betraying his King and the unknown sorcerer he resolved to punish himself somehow because really, it should have been him burning.

He should be burning too.

* * *

A/N hehehe, hi? sorry for such a long gap between updating but well, yeah, depression's hard. On plus side I'll be referred to councilling soon ^^ So please review so you can tell me if you liked this chapter or not. It's quite introspective and I was thinking in the next there would be more interaction with other characters? If there's anything you want included just drop me a line and I'll try to get it in ^^

Now hold on tight and grip the edge of the precipice, it's a long fall down...


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